To the Hobo

Mister Perdi is Awake

There's a shuffling of feet next door,
Mr. Perdi is awake.
Soon he'll reach his mirror,
let the water run as he comes alive.
Mr. Perdi will have his coffee,
the morning paper may be read.
Mr. Perdi will go out;
but where will he go?
No job, no family, no friends to speak -
Mr. Perdi will walk the streets.

Evening will come,
I'll be glad to be back home;
rest from work and daytime's rush -
nighttime reserved for friends.

Keys will jangle, and may be dropped;
Mr. Perdi enters the room next door.
His TV will be too loud,
but he'll be asleep before I get back in.

Tomorrow I'll arise all too early
to start my life again.

There'll be shuffling of feet next door;
Mr. Perdi is awake -
but where will he go?
Where will he go?

_____




To The Hobo

I was a child of the fifties,
born just in time to see you die.
but I remember, something
beyond explaining.
A feeling
of the freedom

we might have shared.

You are the Hobo,
a free soul by name,
your destiny is what you make it.

I seek to follow,
but the trail is lost.

To the Hobo,
wherever you may be:
come out from your hiding
and return to me.

______


The Boardwalk Was Empty

The boardwalk was empty,
chased off by winded rains.
Blown off course perhaps,
one off season pro wandered in
and sat at the booth in the rear.

Music played on casually
filtered through the smoke.
Conversations mixed in and out,
his ear caught bits and phrases.
No word had he to offer
to the changing serenade;
three beers lasted into evening
when the closing call came.

He left the place aimlessly.
The boardwalk was empty
as the storm seaward called.
A single splash was swallowed
in the pounding of the shore.
Any words spoken would go unheard,
the boardwalk was empty.

______

The Ebb and Flow

He was living for the new world order
until he met the mailman's daughter.
She delivered him from death and sin,
then sent him on his way again.

He began looking for another way,
hoping to find something to say.
He fell in love with a fragile soul
bringing him closer to his goal.

By the time she let him go
he believed the world would know
some days are kind, some are not,
but we've got to deal with what we've got.

He was living for some kind of change,
a way perhaps to rearrange
the ebb and flow of each new day,
just a chance that love might stay.

______


She Sang

She sang songs of faith
well into the night.
She sang words of grace
that floated through my walls.

I saw her often
as she passed by in the halls.
I never knew her name:
we were just a quick hello.

But she exuded sunshine
in the smile she always wore.
She could make me happy,
if only for a while.

She sang songs of faith
well into the night.
And even in my darkness
she could bring the light.